The Art of Denial
by SnerkyOne
Summary: Annie & Jimmy are forced to deal with their feelings for one another.  Set right after 1x13 - Narco Part 2.  Contains spoilers for that episode and the one before.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note:  
**I know, I know, what the hell am I doing starting a new story when Bruised & Battered isn't finished?  
I can't help it, I totally got side-tracked by last week's episode!  
I promise I'll go back to B&B now! Well, soon, anyway... :)

**The ****Art**** of**** Denial****,  
Chapter ****One**

"We're home," her partner said as he pulled up to her building and killed the engine. Annie started to point out the fact that this was her home, not his - his home was a few miles away, and came complete with a most-probably-fiancée by now - but the words died on her lips before she could get them out. Bringing up the ring would only lead to a conversation she wasn't in any shape to handle right now.

Hearing Nathalie say she was about to propose had shaken her pretty badly. The conversation - and the realization that her partner might actually say yes - had forced her to take a hard look at her life, and at Jimmy's role in it. Her captivity affording her plenty of time alone with her thoughts, she'd eventually had to face the fact that she harbored some not-so-platonic feelings for him.

She knew they needed to talk, but it just wasn't going happen tonight. She was a mess - both physically and emotionally - and she wasn't about to have a conversation that could potentially change both their lives until she'd had some rest.

Sighing, she unbuckled her seat belt, fishing in her right pocket for the house keys she always kept there.

"They were still in the ignition when you were... taken..." Jimmy said as he materialized to her right, familiar keychain in hand. "The only prints on them were your own, so I pulled a few strings to get them back."

"Thanks," she replied as she took the proffered keys from him. She knew the gesture wasn't really about the keys themselves; Jimmy had a spare key to her place, just like she had one to his. No, what really mattered was the keychain they dangled from, a patch of worn brown leather adorned by a tarnished silver Texas star, a gift from her father on her tenth birthday.

"Come on," her partner gently said as he helped her out of the truck, "let's get you to bed."

She didn't miss the touch of his hand on her lower back as he guided her up the stairs, or the way his fingers lingered as he took the keys from her to unlock the front door. The six-hour drive back to Houston had been filled with moments like this, fleeting touches and stolen glances, all serving to further reinforce the fact that they needed to talk.

She'd actually hoped to use their time on the road to do just that. For one thing, she needed to find out exactly what he'd done to secure her safe return. Judging from the arctic chill between Luke and her partner, and the way Daisy and Marco had kept stealing glances at the two of them, she figured it had to be pretty bad.

And then there was the not-so-insignificant matter of the marriage proposal, the even-more-not-so-insignificant matter of Jimmy's answer, not to mention the definitely-not-so-insignificant matter of her own feelings for him.

The rational part of her knew he'd probably said yes - she couldn't think of any reason why he'd say no, really - but she couldn't quite bring herself to believe it. Yes, he'd been with Nathalie longer than with anyone else before, but that didn't necessarily mean he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, did it?

Besides, he wasn't wearing the ring...

Unfortunately, any hopes she'd had of having an extended heart-to-heart with her partner were dashed when Tim insisted on riding home with Annie, and no amount of bribing by Daisy and Marco could convince him otherwise. She's hoped he'd at least fall asleep at some point, affording them some degree of privacy, but no such luck. The boy had stayed wide awake the whole time, listening to every word they said, forcing them to stick to safe - and impersonal - topics.

By the time they'd delivered him to his waiting mother back in the city, Annie was exhausted, and wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and forget the last couple of days had ever happened.

"I took Fifty-Nine to that place you usually board him at," her partner said just as she was about to call out to the dog. "I wasn't sure how long you'd be gone," he explained, tossing the keys onto the kitchen counter, "and since I didn't know if I'd be around to take care of him, I thought it would be better this way."

"Thanks," she mumbled. Not that she wasn't grateful, but she'd kind of been looking forward to cuddling with her dog - puppy therapy, you might call it - and now she felt strangely bereft. "I'm just gonna go to bed," she said tiredly as she made her way into her bedroom. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, right," he scoffed as he locked the door behind him, sliding the deadbolt home. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Fine," she shot back as she rummaged through her drawers, pulling out sleep shorts and a t-shirt. If he wanted to spend the night on her couch, she wasn't going to stop him, though he'd probably regret it come morning.

She made quick work of changing into her night clothes, then crawled under the covers with a sigh of contentment. She was just about to doze off when she felt the bed shift under the weight of her partner climbing in behind her.

"What are you doing?" she asked as she turned around to face him.

"Nothing," he replied as he pulled her close, tucking her head under his chin. "Just go to sleep."

She knew she should protest, should send him marching out to the couch in the living room, but she just couldn't muster up the energy. Besides, if she was honest with herself, she had to admit that she wanted him to stay right where he was.

Tomorrow they'd talk, and things would probably get... difficult... and certainly awkward... but for now... For now she could pretend that she hadn't waited too long, that there was still a chance for them...

Just for one more night, she could pretend that he was still _her _Jimmy...


	2. Chapter 2

**The**** Art ****of ****Denial****,  
Chapter**** Two**

She woke with a start, heart pounding in her ears, breath caught in her throat. She forced herself to take one deep breath, then another, then another still, all in an effort to shake off the remains of the nightmare that had held her in its grip.

Even though darkness blanketed the room, she was able to make out the outline of her dresser against the far wall, the fuzzy bathrobe hanging on the doorknob of her closet, and the barely-ever-used dog bed by the door. The familiar sights served as a reminder that she was safely back home, that she had indeed escaped from that hellhole down in Mexico.

She felt Jimmy stir next to her, mumbling something unintelligible into her hair as he pulled her closer, further proof that that she was back where she belonged.

She relaxed into his embrace, feeling the last tendrils of nightmare-induced anxiety slowly melt away. She was drifting back to sleep when the sound of a ringing cell phone brought her back to full wakefulness.

She reached for her nightstand out of habit, only to remember that her cell phone was... Well, she wasn't exactly sure where her cell phone was - her first guess would be in her wrecked truck, which was probably sitting in the federal impound lot right about now - but she was pretty damn sure it wasn't anywhere near her nightstand.

Which left her partner's phone, which she figured had to be with the clothes he'd discarded before climbing into bed a few hours ago. She briefly considered letting the call go to voice mail, but she just couldn't do it in the end; U.S. Marshals didn't have the luxury of screening, not when every call could mean the difference between life and death...

Cursing softly at whoever was on the other end of the line, she carefully extricated herself from her still-sleeping partner's embrace and slipped out of bed, tracking the source of the ringing to the living room. Finding his jacket draped over the back of the couch, she quickly went through the pockets, intent on silencing the blasted thing before the incessant ringing woke him up.

She stifled a cry of victory as her hand came upon the offending device, yanking it out none-too-gently in her haste to stop the ringing. The less-than-careful removal of the phone caused something to fly out of the pocket, landing on the floor with a metallic clank before rolling under the couch. Cursing not-to-softly this time, she bent down to retrieve the item as she flipped the phone over to check out the caller ID.

She cursed again - this really _was_ becoming a bad habit - as she saw Nathalie's picture and number on the phone's display. She'd known she'd have to deal with the other woman at some point, but she'd hoped that her and Jimmy would have been able to talk by then.

She was just about to hit the _call _button when she realized exactly what it was that had fallen out of his pocket.

A ring.

A gold engagement ring, to be exact.

The same gold engagement ring Nathalie was going to propose to her partner with.

_Don__'__t_, the little voice in her head warned.

She could only think of one reason why he'd have the ring with him.

_Don__'__t_, the voice begged frantically now. _Don__'__t __say __it__, __don__'__t __even __think __it__, __just__... __don__'__t__..._

Nathalie had asked him to marry her, and he'd said yes.

It was over.

She'd lost.

She'd lost _him_.

As she kept staring at the ring in her hand, oblivious to the tears blurring her vision, Annie Frost did something purely selfish for the first time in her life. She hit the _ignore_ button, sending the call the voice mail, and put the phone on vibrate before returning both items to the pocket where she'd found them.

Feeling numb, she made her way back to the bedroom, hesitating only briefly before slipping back into bed.

And back into her partner's embrace.

Every instinct she possessed screamed at her that this was wrong, that while last night could be forgiven because she hadn't known - not really, not for sure - she had no such excuse now.

Ruthlessly silencing the little voice that kept insisting she needed to stop this _now_, she closed her eyes and waited for sleep to claim her once more...


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry for the delay in posting a new chapter. Bad week at work, bad week at home, just... bad week. :(  
Anyway, hope you enjoy!

**The ****Art**** of**** Denial****,  
Chapter ****Three**

While no nightmares haunted her for the remainder of the night, sleep still did not come easy to Annie. She'd never been one for self-deception and so, try as she might, she could not get away from the fact that what she was doing was wrong.

She was in bed with a man who was engaged to someone else.

The fact that they'd done nothing more than sleep - or try to, in her case - didn't matter.

He still belonged to someone else.

Stifling a sob, she willed herself to stay still for fear of waking up her partner or, even worse, of letting him know she was awake. As long as she kept up the pretense of sleep, she didn't have to talk, didn't have to ask questions she didn't want the answers to...

"Boots?"

She mumbled something unintelligible, hoping he'd leave her be, if only for a little while longer. She hated herself for the uncharacteristic weakness - she wasn't not the type of girl who tearfully pined away for a guy, and she certainly wasn't the type to hide from the truth - but she couldn't seem to help herself.

"I know you're awake," he said, his voice sounding odd.

She slowly opened her eyes against her better judgment, immediately wishing she'd hadn't. He looked... lost, for lack of a better word... and seeing him like that just about broke her heart all over again. "What time is it?" she asked with a not-entirely-fake yawn, desperate to steer the conversation away from anything to do with the ring in his jacket.

"It's still early, about six," he replied, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind her ear.

"Need more sleep," she mumbled as she burrowed deeper into his embrace in an effort to delay the inevitable.

"I know," he replied as he gently pushed her way, "but we need to talk before I go home."

"Whatever it is can wait," she argued, silently begging him to let it go.

She wasn't ready to face reality.

She wasn't ready to have him tell her he was going to marry Nathalie.

And she certainly wasn't ready to admit that she'd lost her chance to be with him...

He remained silent, and she actually thought she might get a reprieve, if only a short one.

She should have known better...

"I said yes," he told her very quietly, never breaking eye contact. "I told Nathalie I would marry her."

"Okay," she said inanely, shocked to discover just how much it hurt to hear him say the words. "You should probably go, then," she added, fighting to keep her voice steady as she tried to put some more distance between them. "She must be wondering where you are..." She trailed off, trying not to squirm as he studied her intently.

"You knew," he said with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his noise between his thumb and forefinger. "How?"

"Your phone was ringing, I went to answer it, and the ring fell out of your pocket," she explained in as neutral a voice as she could muster. "It wasn't too hard to figure out what it meant," she added with a small shrug.

"I'm sorry... I-"

"It's okay," she said, cutting him off. "You don't need to apologize. It's not like we've had a lot of alone time, is it?" she asked with a mirthless laugh.

"I know, but-"

"I'm happy for you," she told him, quite proud of the fact that she _almost_ sounded like she meant it.

"That would make one of us," he replied, sighing as he rolled onto his back. "I made a mistake."

"You don't mean that," she argued. "I've seen the way you look at her, the way you light up when she's around." She trailed off, steeling herself for what she was about to say. "You love her."

"However I feel about Nathalie, it's nothing compared to what I feel about you," he said, sounding miserable. "I was a fool to think I could just ignore those feelings and build a life with her."

"Jimmy-"

"I knew it was a mistake the minute I said it," he continued, ignoring her protests, "but I still said it, and now I'm going to have to deal with it."

"Why _did_ you say yes, then?" she asked, knowing she was treading on dangerous ground yet unable to stop herself.

"The Cordova case really got to me, all that talk about family being everything, and then you got shot, and I wanted..." He trailed off, obviously struggling to find the right words. "I wanted to stay with you, to make sure you were okay... but mostly just to be with you... and you didn't... want me... or need me... so I went home to Nathalie, who did want me, and so I just... I said yes."

"It's okay-"

"How can it be okay?" he asked. "She's going to get hurt because I didn't have the guts to tell you that I love you."

"I'm sorry," she said, not knowing what else to say. She was all too familiar with settling for someone simply because they showed interest...

"Why are you sorry?" he asked, turning to face her. "You didn't do anything."

"Yeah, that's the kind of the point, isn't it?" she sighed. "I could have said something."

"I don't understand-"

"When Nathalie told me she was going to propose, or when you told me she had, or even when you came to check on me after I was shot... And there were times before, times when I knew I wanted more than friendship from you... I could have spoken up, could have told you-"

"Don't," he said, cutting her off. "Please, just... don't."

"Why not?" she asked, brow knit in confusion. "What difference can it possibly make at this point, unless you-" She stopped cold, realizing he hadn't actually said he was going to break things off. She'd just assumed, and assumptions could be very dangerous things...

"It's over," he assured her with a sad smile, her expression obviously having given away her thoughts. "It's been over for quite a while, really."

"Then why?"

"Because I'm never going to be able to get out of this bed if you actually say it, and I... I need to go home. I need to make things right with Nathalie before I can start anything with you." He reached for her, pulling her close as he pressed a kiss onto her forehead. "Okay?"

"Yeah," she mumbled into his neck. "But just so you know, the minute you've squared things away, I'm going to say it," she warned him. "And then I'm going to say it again. And again. And-"

"I think I get the picture," he said, laughing as he let go of her. "And I _will_ hold you to that."

"Good," she replied, grinning. "Now get your ass out of my bed, Godfrey," she said, giving him a playful shove.

"Yes, ma'am," he drawled, giving her a mock salute before climbing out of bed and heading out into the living room to retrieve his clothes. He ducked back into the bedroom a few minutes later, once again fully clothed and ready to go. "I'll be back as soon as I can," he told her as he checked his gun then holstered it.

"I'll be here," she mumbled as she burrowed deep under the covers, sleep claiming her before her partner had even slipped out of the apartment, locking the door behind him...


End file.
